Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 9
I know the guiltiness of a dusty Bible
Brown specks slipping off my *******
Diminishing into my morning coffee,
To make the blend taste a whole lot bitter

Empty sentiments; too deep to be openly cast-off,
Once of someone who had the heart to their devotion
Nowadays it had proved heartless;- so fruitless:

Still a tree is judged by its fruits.
Odd Odyssey Poet
Written by
Odd Odyssey Poet  25/M/Zimbabwe
(25/M/Zimbabwe)   
123
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems